Subconcious(Monsters)
by Kaumana
Summary: You've been lucky enough to have gotten shoved into love twice in your life. That's more than most people. Yet, nothing can be easy for Sam Puckett. It's always got to be difficult. (Alternate title: Monsters. Had to change the genre when I realized maybe this isn't as funny as I originally thought...) Read & review pleases!
1. Chapter 1

They lied. The movies, the books, the television- they all lied. When you fell in love with someone, their touch didn't jolt your hand, their smile didn't make your heart stop or beat slowly and fast at the same time. What does that even mean? And any butterflies could be easily rid of with a burp. No, love sneaks up on you, and sometimes you don't even realize it's there. It's more like a battery- the power source that fuels you always doting on that person. It's like you suddenly stop having control of your body and it just does whatever will make the person happy. And the worst part is that you don't even mind. You're in control of being out of control.

You wished that what the media said were true. You wished it had been as electric as they say- that way you would have been able to avoid it.

But no, you had no idea. And you would've stayed clueless, had it not been for that one day. A day ordinary enough, like any other day: with you sitting by the counter, frowning at your laptop, wishing that dumb internet school couldn't tell when you used Zaplook to cheat. And she sat on the couch with her real homework sat in front of her. She almost mirrored your frown, except yours was in anger and hers was more set in confusion.

At some point you decided to give up and you found yourself staring at her. Not really focusing on anything but your eyes just lay on her frame. Studying the creases and lines in her face like the answers to your homework were hidden somewhere in there.

Finally, she turned to you, but you didn't look away. Your eyes actually hadn't even registered she was looking at you. At least until she giggled.

"Hi?" was all she said, but she was smiling at you and you could feel a smile forming on your own face.

"Hey," you grinned. And you just fucking sat there, smiling at one another. It was fucking ridiculous.

That's when it hit you like ton of bricks. And more than figuratively, you felt like you had been slapped across the face with an actual brick. You tore your eyes away from her and slid out the stool.

"I have to use the bathroom." You declared and you winced. Since when did Sam Puckett announce herself like a child?

You rushed to the bathroom before your mouth could betray you any further. You closed the door firmly but quietly enough so it wouldn't raise Cat's suspicion and pressed yourself against it.

When did this happen to you? How did you miss her seeping into your bones? Why didn't you notice when your blood started to pump "Cat, Cat, Cat?"

"Fuck," you breathed. You should've let her get smashed in that garbage truck. But you couldn't, she had you even then. You were enthralled the second you caught her in the corner of your eye probably. It had to have been that fucking hair. It attracts so much attention. Stupid, stupid girl. You hated her for doing this to you. But you mostly hated how you didn't actually hate her.

With resign, you pushed yourself away from the door and crawled into the bathtub, probably to try and drown yourself.

"Sam Puckett, you sighed, "Only a badass until a girl with brown eyes bats them and smiles."

The cool porcelain felt good against your skin. It made you feel cold and silenced your body's incessant shouting at you. That was your one clue. Cat always made you feel too hot.

* * *

The next thing you remember was being awakened by an urgent rapping on the door.

"Sam!" was the muffled cry that came from the other side. She almost sounded mad at you. "Sam! Are you stuck in the toilet?"

You slowly rose from the tub, her voice getting clearer as you made your way to the door.

"I know that when the door's closed, that means private but you've been in there for over an hour and that toilet's evil and I'm really worried so I'm gonna- I'm gonna break down the door!"

You were mad at yourself because of how cute you found her rambling and concern.

You yanked the door open suddenly, only wide enough so your face could be seen, and she gasped in surprise.

"Cat," you deadpanned. "The door wasn't locked."

"Oh," she looked down at the doorknob and then back up to you. Her eyes were shining and her voice was gaspy, like she was about to cry. And then you felt bad for making her worry.

"I just fell asleep in the bathtub."

She snapped up, immediately going from near tears to confused. It was incredible how quickly she could go through emotions, like one of those toys where you press the button and the thing inside spins and changes the face. She looked you up and down. You could almost see the cogs whirring in her head. You coughed to stop the butterflies before they got out of hand.

"What were you doing in the bathtub?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. Just sitting."

She paused, the cogs moved again. "Can I come in?"

You opened the door completely and looked at her expectantly. "It's a free country."

She smiled and walked past you, climbing in the tub eagerly. You lingered by the door, watching her, wondering if you could make your body stop feeling this way if you made a run for it now. The fact that you were thinking about it instead of just doing it showed you were already in too deep.

She began to flag you over, looking at you with that smile ever present. "Get in here, silly! This was your idea!"

You frowned at her. "Don't call me silly," you mumbled and dragged your body over to the bathtub, climbing in.

The cool sanctuary the bathtub had been a few minutes ago was now gone. Climbing in with Cat, your legs intermingling, it was like a sauna.

She stared at you, waiting for you to show her the magic of sitting in the bathtub and you were grumbling in your corner of the tub, trying to shrink into yourself, but staring back at her nonetheless.

You don't know why you let her in. You didn't know what you expected to do. Have a stimulating conversation in the bathtub?

It only set it in stone. You just did things for Cat without thinking, and then you wouldn't know why. The only reason had to be that you loved her. That, or you hated yourself. Maybe it was a bit of both.

"What were you doing in here?" She said, fortunately interrupting your thoughts that were threatening to engulf you and when you came up all you would see is red.

"Just thinking," you responded and her eyebrows knitted together, visibly unsatisfied with your answer.

"About what?"

"You." You breathed and no matter how hard you inhaled, it wouldn't come back- it was already in the air and she had already heard it. You squinted at her. "Wondering about what you would look like if you were bald."

Nice save, Puckett. You mentally high fived yourself.

She grabbed her head, defensively, gasping loudly. "Sam! You wouldn't shave my head!"

You exhaled sharply. "Oh, relax. Why would I shave your head?"

Her lips were poked out in a pout. "You don't like my hair." She whispered, running her hands through the red sea that sprouted from her head.

You leaned back in the tub, tossing your arms out to either side of it, and tilted your head back over the edge so you were staring at the ceiling. "Shut up. I like your hair. And it doesn't matter anyway." You bring your head back up to look at her. "You know you'd still be pretty even if I did shave your head."

At first, she didn't really respond, probably because she didn't know whether to be mad or take what you said as a compliment. Her eyes were still casted down but her defensive brushing became less frequent. Finally she met your eyes and withdrew her hands from her hair completely.

There was a short, not exactly uncomfortable silence, and once again you guys just smiled at one another.

"One time, my brother shaved all his hair off and everyone thought he was a cancer patient so they kept calling the hospital because he looked like an escapee."

"Oh my god, Cat." You threw your head back over the side.

* * *

And that's what started the past couple weeks that had been the hardest of your life. If only you could go back to blissful ignorance instead of now trying to regulate your body temperature as you sit on the couch, Cat smashed up against you, clinging to you tightly as the teenager left alone in the blatantly haunted house decides to search for the source of that banging sound.


	2. Chapter 2

Whose idea had it been to watch a scary movie in the first place?

Oh, right. The kids you had babysat that day. But now they were gone and it was only you and Cat in the dark, the screen of the television being the only source of light. You knew Cat wouldn't have the guts for a movie like this.

"We don't have to watch this, " you had said. But she insisted that the kids have their way and she would be alright. Although she looked queasy the whole time she was trying to convince you. You rolled your eyes and gave everyone what they wanted, but only because you didn't feel like discussing it anymore.

And now look where you are. You're positive Cat is trying to meld you into one person simply based on the amount of force she is using to smash her face into your armpit.

You're annoyed because you're burning. She's stealing all of your air.

You sigh loudly. "Cat."

She doesn't hear you.

"Cat," you repeat, louder this time and she removes her head from the cove she's made in your side. She peers at you intently, making sure not to catch anything that's happening on the TV in the corner of her eye.

"Hmm?" is her response, completely unaware of the problem.

"You know the kids are gone? We can turn this off now." Your voice has an annoyed tone in it, one that you appreciate. You don't want to sound too soft.

However, instead of welcoming your words like you assumed she would, her face becomes distraught. "No, Sam! I can do this! I can finish a whole scary movie, I'm not a wimp!"

You laugh drily at this, adjusting yourself so Cat is no longer leaning on you. She had started to give you a dead arm. "You haven't even been watching it!"

She frowns. "Yes I have!"

"From my armpit?" You keep laughing because you find yourself hilarious. Cat usually does too, but for some reason, at the moment, she continues frowning at you. You shrug defensively. "Come on, I'm just kidding."

Your words are enough to get her to stop frowning so vehemently, but she still doesn't look happy. "But didn't you want to see the rest of the movie?"

You shake your head. "I've already seen this."

"Oh."

Watching her, you begin to feel bad for questioning her determination. She looks particularly conflicted and you know you ruined some sort of promise she made to herself. It's like you can see her resolve crumbling.

"What if I tell you exactly what happens at the end? Then it's like you watched the movie."

Her face lights up. You can be pretty good at compromising when you want to be. It's just that most of the time you don't want to be.

"Kk!" She faces you enthusiastically and you take this as a signal to start your half remembered rendition of the plotline.

"Okay, so after this scene or whatever, she goes to the store and finds a newspaper clipping or something and it turns out that the guy that works for them is actually the dude who killed his family."

Her face twists as you tell the story, silently horrified. But you said you would tell her the whole thing so you continue on. "So he gets attacked by crows and then goes crazy and tries to kill everybody. He hits the one guy with a pitchfork... or a shovel. I don't remember. Anyway, then he attacks Jess's family. They all together try to hide and beat him up. He stabs the dad and then the ghost family pulls him into the mud and he disappears forever. The bad guy I mean."

She pauses. She appears to be processing the information, taking it all in. You burp. Too much popcorn. But you did have the whole bag to yourself, considering Cat absolutely refused. She didn't want to barf if the movie was gory.

At last, she speaks. "So… it's a happy ending?"

You shrug. Yeah, sure. Why not? "Yeah, I guess it's a happy ending."

"Yay!" She exclaims and next thing you know, she's throwing her arms around your neck, bringing you into a hug.

And just like that, you're on fire. Your reflex is to like karate chop or something but you don't do that. "Not a hugger!" You yell instead.

Not a hugger.

Not a hugger of Cat, no.

"Whoops, sorry!" she says, breaking away from you and you stand up right away as soon as you're free.

"Welp, I'm tired as chizz so I'm gonna go to bed." You say and surprisingly, you're not lying just to get away from Cat. You feel like you could pass out at any moment.

Why are you so tired? You didn't even do anything that vigorous today, at least as far as you can remember.

Eh, it doesn't matter. When Mama's tired, Mama's tired.

"Wait for me!" You hear from behind you but you're already collapsing into your bed. So soft. Too tired to even put on pajamas. Will fall asleep in jeans.

You examine Cat with tired eyes as she walks into your shared bedroom. "Cat, can you hand me my pajama pants?"

She huffs. "You never take out your own pajamas!"

You whine. Can't she see how tired you are? Why isn't she being nicer to you in your poor state? "That's because you're so good at taking things out of the drawer!"

You shove your face into the bed, muffling your voice. "Take pity on me! I'm so tired I can't even move my arms!" You give a lame attempt at sitting up but fall back onto the mattress. "See?"

She sighs, but you can hear the smile in her voice. "You say that every night."

And then, after a moment, you're greeted with the welcoming sound of a dresser drawer opening and closing. Everything goes dark as she drops your pajama bottoms on your head.

"Thank you! You're the best roommate a girl could ask for!"

She only giggles in response.

So you begin the wild and violent leg dance you do to get your jeans off and your pajama pants on with as little effort as possible. It barely takes you a minute. If laziness were an art form, you would have perfected it.

With a contented sigh, you shove yourself down into your covers.

And in that moment, I swear you were grateful for having such a fantastic bed.

You absentmindedly bring your eyes to Cat's side of the room, wondering if you can turn off the light. But you can't, she's changing into her pajamas.

You quickly turn away, instead focusing on the many objects you've stuck on your wall.

_Don't look, Sam. Don't look. Don't look, don't look, don't look._

It's different than when you change. You only change your pants and you wear boxers, which are basically like tiny shorts.

It's just different.

It's not like Cat goes completely commando in front of you. If she had ever done that, you don't think you would still be alive to tell this tale. You would have most certainly died.

But she does change her shirt as well as her bottoms. And underwear is a problem.

Yup, just keeping staring at this boy toilet on the wall like you've never seen anything so interesting in your entire life. What is that? Porcelain? Man, that is some shiny looking stuff. Though you don't remember ever cleaning it. The janitor must've shined it before you stole it. Good for him. That janitor's probably really good at his job. Wonder if he has a wife and kids. Bet if he does, when he gets home his kids are probably always like, "Why do you smell like toilet?" Wouldn't it be funny if his wife was like a fiery Hispanic woman with an accent? Yeah, that'd be pretty funny. She probably starts rambling in Spanish whenever she gets really upset.

The light goes off. You're in the clear. You feel safe to peek around to the room.

"Goodnight, Sam!" Cat's voice reaches you to from the other side of the room.

"Night!" You grunt back, slamming your hand on the light switch. No matter how many times you do it, sleep always feels fantastic.

* * *

You're being pushed over in your own bed. This force is curling up next to you, pressing into your back, breathing on your skin.

"Cat." You state.

Instead of responding to you, the form curls up tighter, as if it can hide from you in this small twin sized bed.

"Cat. What are you doing?" Your sleepy voice refuses to be anything but monotone so it sounds more like a demand than a question.

Cat unfolds next to you but still rests against your back. Her voice is small when she speaks, your slowly awakening ears almost miss it.

"I got scared in my bed so I came over here to lay with you. I tried to make myself small so you wouldn't mind."

You don't even have the energy to be angry. "Fine," you breathe. Whatever would let you get back to sleep. It's not like you were using the whole bed anyway.

She lets out a tiny sound of thanks and scoots even closer to you, though you doubted that was possible. She wouldn't be happy until you guys were like freaky conjoined twins.

Your eyes stay closed but now you can't sleep. All you can focus on is Cat's body pressed against your own. You can feel her breathing and it's the weirdest thing. You're not even hot, just unsettled.

You close your eyes harder. You were going to sleep whether you liked it or not.

Nothing happens for a few minutes and you can feel yourself beginning to drift off. Slowly returning to that dreamland where you could run in the fields of fried chicken.

That is, until Cat violently convulses behind you.

"Sam! Did you hear that?"

Dammit. The fried chicken will have to wait.

"Hear what?" You grumble, not moving whatsoever.

"That." She says definitely, like there's a giant explosion that you're missing or something.

You listen, although you still refuse to move, hoping if you keep your position you'll be able to fall back asleep quickly once Cat calms down.

Then you hear it. The slight sound of trees rustling and brushing against the windows in your kitchen. All completely, natural sounds. Less than nothing to worry about.

Cat gasps as it continues. "Ghosts."

"Great. Then us being in the same bed will definitely make it a lot easier for them to get us both." In your fatigue, you don't realize how bad of a joke that is until Cat is clawing at you.

"Sam! Ghosts are going to get us!"

You exhale noisily as you are ultimately forced to move from your sleeping posture. Turning to Cat, you place your hands on her shoulders.

"Cat, we're going to be fine."

She shakes her head forcefully. "But you said they would get us both!"

Damn. Now you really regret making that joke. Had you not made that joke, by now you might've been back to sleep, instead of getting up from your nice, warm bed like you are now.

You snatch a wooden sword you stole from a child down from the wall parallel to your bed.

"What are you doing?" She whisper-yells at you, incredibly concerned.

Now that Cat was being ridiculous with the whole ghost thing, you were going to have to do something equally ridiculous to make her feel better.

You also couldn't stand to see how frightened she looked.

You bring the sword back over to the bed to show Cat.

"You see this?" You say, displaying it in front of her.

She feebly nods at you.

"This is actually a ghost killing sword. I keep it just in case something like this happens."

When this is over, you're going to face palm yourself whenever you think of this moment because of how cheesy and nice you're being. But right now, you just want to make Cat not scared. "I'm going to go out there and kill all the ghosts before they come in here. See? I can protect you."

The worry comes to her face suddenly and abundantly, written all over her face. "But then they'll get you!"

You smirk. "I'll be fine. Did you know if you pull a blanket over your head and cover your whole body monsters and stuff can't get you?"

She shakes her head.

"Well, it's true. So that's what you're going to while I go in there just in case I miss any."

Without delay, she brings the blanket over her head, her face disappearing. You stick your face underneath the blanket to continuing speaking to her, leaving her with final orders.

"Okay so stay in here while I go kill the ghosts."

You wait for some sort of confirmation that she understands but nothing happens and it's too dark to see what she's thinking.

"You're so brave." Comes the disembodied voice from where you know her body lay. And you're actually grateful that you can't see one another because your face is suddenly really warm.

You're fucking blushing.

This has never happened.

You have been called reckless before. Even dangerously sure of yourself. But never brave.

You yank yourself out of the blanket, away from Cat and her evil mind control.

"I'll be right back," you grunt and leave the room quickly.

Once you're in the hallway, you go about moving things to make as much as noise as possible. As if you were fighting a horde of ghosts.

To make it more convincing, you yell and grunt at random intervals. "Get out ya dumb ghosts!" You say, with a push of the couch.

You knock on the walls, move appliances and little random things, trying to generate a sound of struggle. "I'll never let you get Cat!"

This is stupid. This is so very stupid.

Yet you still feel compelled to do it.

You pop your head into the bedroom. "Almost got them," you declare then go back to causing a ruckus. You drag the sword along the carpet. Yeah, about two more minutes of this and that should be a believable fight. At least you hope so, because you're running out of ideas to make noise.

After a jump or two, you think you should be good. That was definitely enough time to fight about five or six ghosts.

As an observer, I can objectively say everything you just did was very lame.

Walking back into the bedroom, you proclaim, "I got them all," in as heroic of a voice as you can muster. You close the door behind you just for good measure.

Cat sticks her head out from underneath the comforter. "They're all gone?" she asks.

You nod and she immediately jumps up and scurries over to the edge of the bed to meet you.

"Are you okay?" She probes as you start to crawl into bed and she searches your arms as if you would have some sort of battle scars.

"I'm fine." You place the sword at the head of your bed and turn to her with the last ounce of energy you have left. "I'm gonna put this right here, just in case."

She nods and you finally left yourself fall into your blankets. You feel like you could tear up, you're so happy to be back in bed.

Cat leaves the foot of the bed and lies beside you, her head resting on your (accidentally) outstretched arm.

You're so tired, you could fall asleep instantly, and you should have done it by now, but she's just staring at you and you can't close your eyes.

"Thank you," she says, and her voice is quiet like it was a secret for only your ears to hear.

And she's gazing at you, in that way she does that you can't describe, with that stupid smile. Like you're amazing or something, or this great person deserving her admiration. Like a fucking knight in shining armor.

You almost forget who you are and feel like someone who can touch things without destroying them.

Almost.

"I'm not a good person," you suddenly utter. It comes from your mouth without your permission, trying to dispel any ideas Cat might have about you. It comes from somewhere far down in your brain that you usually keep quiet. "I'm only nice to you."

Her face instantly changes in protest. "You're good!"

You smile to cover up how shitty you actually feel. She looks to be almost offended and confused, like she can't believe you would say that about yourself. But that's only because she hasn't known you long. Once she does, she'll see.

"Go to sleep, Cat."

You turn over on your side, once again, your back to her. You can't face her. Not until you can stop the words that have become monsters from crawling up your throat.

You should really get to sleep. All this staying up is making you crazy.

Yet you can't actually fall asleep. You're annoyed again. And as always, it's because of Cat. It bothers you that you're in the same bed but there's a space between you. You can't feel her. You want to punch yourself in the face for being bothered by this.

Silence fills the room though you're only occupying a small part of it. You float into a weird awake-but-won't-be-able-to-remember-the-last-five- minutes-that-have-passed limbo. You wonder if Cat has fallen asleep yet.

"Sam,"

Nope. Still awake.

"Why should you have to be nice to everyone?"

You don't know what she means. Typical. The girl speaks in riddles.

"Huh?"

"You don't have to be nice to everyone."

You snort. "What? Says you. You're nice to everyone."

"Yeah, but that's because I'm me. I'm Cat. And you're Sam. And we're Sam and Cat. And that's all we need to be."

You choke on your spit like a loser. You've got nothing to say. And as you feel her cuddling up to you, you begin to think this girl understands a lot more than people give her credit for.

You know she's fallen asleep already. You feel like maybe you could follow her.

* * *

_You will drag Cat down. You will destroy her._

This voice speaks to you in your sleep. It follows you as you walk along the empty and dark streets of Seattle.

_Or, she will leave you before you can._

You scan the nearest alleyway but see no one. Just blackness ringing back at you. It seems to be pulsing, winding closer to welcome you inside.

"Hello?"

_Carly said she loved you and she still left you. She had to. She had to better herself. And the only way she could do that was to get rid of you._

You face the inky and suffocating black of the alleyway. Even in dreams, Sam Puckett does not run. You flip open your pocket knife. You fight.

_Your own mother doesn't even like you. She shipped Melanie away so you couldn't ruin her. She knows what you're capable of. Of your hands that only break._

"Come here, you piece of shit."

It's like trying to fight an octopus, with millions of hands reaching out, grabbing you. You're swiftly wrapped in it, being crushed. Your knife does nothing.

_Do you think Cat will love you and everything will be fine? That suddenly you'll know what to do with your life and you'll be able to keep her? That she won't go once she sees you can't do anything? Make anything?_

Twisting tentacles around your neck, it's like staring into a void, nothing gazes back at you. Where'd your knife go?

_Carly said she loved you all the time. Sometimes even whispered it with her hands digging into your skin, and she's still gone. In Italy. Far away from you._

_Melanie's far away from you. And so is your mother. She was never near._

_And soon Cat will be too._

Have you ever been able to see? Has this void always been closing over your eyes and swallowing you whole? Where is your knife?

Where is your knife?

You shoot up, sitting upright in your bed. Your heart beating rapidly fills your ears and your chest heaves with weighty breathes. Your hands are clutching the fabric on your bed, lost in search of a fallen tool.

You feel a gentle touch on your arm and you hear your name spoken softly, so softly you wonder if it's still coming from your dream.

You struggle to stop your eyes from frantically searching the darkness in front of you. With strain, you bring them down to whatever's touching you.

You forgot Cat was in your bed.

You hastily tear your eyes away, embarrassed. "Sorry, Cat," you grumble.

She shakes her head, refusing your apology but also causing you to glance back at her.

Her eyes are absolutely cognizant when they meet yours. You've never seen this face before. It disarms you. Like she can see whatever you saw, like she knows whatever you saw. There's no sympathy in her face to make you angry, simply understanding.

"I can protect you too," she breathes.

Now, it might be because you're so fucking tired and you're not thinking clearly. Or it could be that it's three in the morning and that's when night stretches out forever and promises it will never end, and everyone is transported somewhere where nothing that happens is real.

Whichever the reason, you find yourself hiding your face in Cat's neck and wrapping your arms around her waist, submerging yourself into her.

She doesn't say anything to make you feel small. Her fingers walk up and down your spine.

You're pulled down into a red, dreamless sleep almost immediately.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry I took so long to update. It just takes me **_**really **_**long to write these chapters because **

** 1. I'm suckish at writing**

** 2. I go over a chapter over and over psychotically to make sure everything is in character. **

**Yep. That's it. If you confine yourself to the universe of another person, gotta make sure you stay in it, ya know?**

**Also, if for some reason you don't know what **_**look**_** I'm talking about, rewatch #NewGoat. Specifically the scene between Sam and Cat in Elderly Acres. You know which one I mean. Get it together.**

**I cannot promise you that the next chapter will be up faster because then I'd be lying. It won't be posted for a while. It's because I have no idea what I'm doing (writing wise of course, I have an idea for the chapter itself) and haven't written it yet. **

**So uh… yeah. I got recommended on the puckentine fanfic tumblr. That was pretty awesome. Thanks for all your reviews too, I appreciate every single one of them. All six of em. Yep.**

**Not that I'd be angry if I got tons more…**

**You picking up what I'm putting down?**

**(That's 80's lingo for "please review, this is my baby.")**

**-Kaumana**


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